I Dig Music

I bought coffee with quarters this morning, having blown all of my capital on pints of Stella and a long, foggy cab ride home from Brooklyn. I’m currently nursing a thundering headache where my skull connects to my spine, and choking back the mini puke gathering in the back of my throat. None of which diminishes my love for the Smith Family.

And that truly is the miracle of The Smith Family. Seriously. (This is an irony-free blog, you know.) We like each other a lot (I mean, I think they like me — despite my hammy on stage presence — but I like them a lot). Which is kinda’ weird ‘cuz we haven’t known each other too long. But there’s something different about the way we’re approaching this collective. See, it’s difficult to find a volunteer band in New York. Trust me, I had one (listen to ‘The Deluxe EP’). Everyone’s a session player, a hired gun. Or they’re doing their own thing to become rich and famous. Which makes some sense. But it’s tough to keep things going (which is a factor of why I play with a different lineup for many of solo shows), and keep people motivated.

I gotta’ wrap this up before my head falls flat onto the keyboard.

Smith Family’s different. (Notice I’m talking about the relationships here, not the music which is a) obviously different being that it’s country and all b) we kinda’ sucked it up a little bit last night and c) relationships matter more anyhow). We’re all smiles and nicknames and hugs and stuff. It’s just a whole different thing. It’s pretty cool.

Oh, and we like to stay out late until the guy at the bar says, “Last call!” I mean, I can’t tell you the last time I heard that phrase live and in the flesh.

So, anyway. I’m reminded, again, of Sweetwater frontman Russell Hammond standing on the roof whispering to his awed crowd below, “I dig music.” I do. I dig music. But you probably knew that before my hangover-fueled rant.

More importantly, I dig relationships, new and old: the late night laughter, practical jokes, silly snapshots, and the feeling of not wanting the night — or the music — to end.